


No Smoke Without Winston

by foxie_trot



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Gen, fanction: doctor who
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-16
Updated: 2013-06-16
Packaged: 2017-12-15 03:07:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/844590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foxie_trot/pseuds/foxie_trot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Coda for "Victory of the Daleks". The Doctor is alone and war weary. He visits Winston Churchill for tea and a chat. He gets a face full of smoke in return.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Smoke Without Winston

**Author's Note:**

> This is spawned from my fangirling of the new series with a friend. Crack induced, therefore its crack infused.
> 
> Also, Yttrium exists in the dictionary! Look it up.

Winston Churchill sat back in his chair, shrouded in darkness. He felt tired and old, battered by years of unimaginable responsibility and sleepless nights. The thing that drained him even more so was the relief that currently poured into every cell in his body. A cease fire had been called, the Nazi’s were fleeing and finally, after too many years and too high a body count, they had won. He sat there, in the dark, savouring the moment of bittersweet victory.

A whirling whine sounded from the hall, and Winston snapped his eyes open. He was out of his chair in a second and hurried up the stairs, eager to share the good news with his friend. The blue door had barely opened with a soft _hiss_ before Winston grabbed the man, grinning broadly.

“Doctor! We’ve done it! Finally, it’s coming to an end!” he exclaimed.

“Well, indeed! You must be happy. I mean, of course you are. You haven’t even tried to take my key,” the Doctor grinned at him before patting his shoulder affectionately.

“No, it seems I haven’t. Ahh, another time perhaps. Come in Doctor, come through.” Winston turned on the low light, shaking his head. He turned to the Doctor.

“What bring you here now? I surely didn’t send for you. There’s not another threat from extraterrestrial forces, is there?” a tremor of fear spiked a rush of adrenaline.

“No, no my good man. I’ve just come for a chat, and perhaps some tea. Check to see how you’re doing, old boy.” The Doctor flashed him a lopsided smile. Winston chuckled briefly and steered the Doctor towards the empty briefing room. The Doctor leaned against the centre table, beside a tottering pile of confidential papers. He picked wildly at the papers, throwing them into the air after a brief glance. Winston went into a side room and turned on the stove, setting the kettle on the heat. He came out to talk while it boiled.

“What is it that you have come to check up on? Did you miss any alien technology the first time?” Winton asked. The Doctor looked sharply at him, arms paused in mid-toss.

“Why, Churchill! Such little faith, of course I didn’t miss anything. I would never miss anything unless you _allowed_ me to miss something. You haven’t been hiding anything on me, have you now?” he bounced off the table and over to Winston, back arched over so he could peer into his face at eye level. Winston frowned at him.

“I couldn’t hide anything from you if I tried! You know that even better than I do,” waving his hand, Winston turned to turn off the stove, where the kettle was now whistling shrilly. He poured two steaming cups and passed one over to the Doctor. Winston didn’t even bother to raise an eyebrow at the five sugars the Doctor dropped into his. Nor was he all that surprised to see him pull out several biscuits from his jacket pocket. When the Doctor held them out in offer though, with a pleasant “Jam dodger, Winston?” Winston declined with a swift shake of his head and a pat of his ample stomach.

“Got plenty without those, Doctor!”

They sat – or at least, the Doctor did, gracefully perched on the table. Winston lay his saucer down beside the Doctors’ on the haphazard pile of papers. While he munched on his pastry, Winston set about extracting his final cigar from his pocket, striking a match and lighting it. After a few short puffs, he returned his attention to the Doctor.

“So then, what have you got for me this time?” Winston asked; smoke exhaled into the Doctor’s face. He coughed slightly; the billowing smoke choked every pore.

“What makes you think that? Can’t I just sit and have a quiet cup of tea with a friend?” he returned, brow wrinkled as he waved the smoke out of his face.

“You never come just for a chat. I doubt there would ever be a time when you would appear just to swap stories over tea.”

This seemed to strike something within the Doctor and he twitched involuntarily, trying to then hide it by rubbing his hand over his face. He seemed more exhausted than Winston had ever seen him; he looked as bad as Winston probably did. Nor had he failed to notice that he was without his red-haired companion this time either. Saving the world in another time, had she possibly been one of the casualties? Or had she been sent back to Earth, like the brass lass before? Winston knew better than to ask for details, he’d always been rebuffed before. So he was surprised when the Doctor spoke next.

“I just... needed to get away from it all. The war with the Daleks... hasn’t gone well.” The Doctor expelled an exasperated breath. “You’d think by now I wouldn’t be surprised that somehow they survived. I lost everything, yet one of them always manages to escape into another time.” Looking over, Winston caught his eyes and saw the deep sorrow etched there, a burden weighing down; crushing, devastating. Winston had to avert his gaze.

“I thought if I just returned to the place where it all started, the memory just might make it worth it.” He smiled briefly and shrugged his shoulders. “The company’s pretty good as well, so I’m not complaining.”

Winston didn’t know whether to frown or comfort. He felt a twist of remorse in his stomach at the thought that it had been his call that had started the whole thing. Puffing out another lungful of smoke, Winston reasoned inquiries wouldn’t be uncalled for. The Doctor coughed again.

“How are things proceeding with the Daleks?”

The Doctor shrugged, frowning. “I’ve beaten them back, for now. Their leaders, the G-A-Y-L-O-R-D-S, were destroyed but some of the others managed to escape. They have to regroup before another threat to the universe is imminent.”

Winston nodded absently for a moment, before curiosity furrowed his brow. “The who, sorry?”

“Oh, I call them GAYLORDS for short. Genetically Altered Yttrium’s Lording Over a Rainbow-Dalek Ship. Rather appropriate, don’t you think?”

Winston stared at the Doctor for a few moments, who seemed rather pleased with his ingenuity. Then he snorted with mirth and suddenly, was laughing harder than he had for many years. His chortling rang through the empty chambers. The Doctor turned to look at Winston quizzically. When Winston had calmed himself, taken a few great gulps of air and wiped his eyes, he gasped, “You really do create the most extraordinary names for things! That one is definitely my favourite yet.”

The corners of the Doctor’s mouth lifted. His face twisted into a grimace a moment later when Winston drew deeply on his cigar and exhaled, still chuckling. The laughter seemed to relax them both somewhat and the tension in the Doctor’s shoulders dissipated slightly. He finished off the remainder of his tea and popped the rest of the biscuit into his mouth. Winston, recognising the Doctor’s swift exit strategy, also drained his cup. Together they placed their cups on the desk. The Doctor jumped down, somehow managing not to upset any of the precariously positioned objects around him, straightened his jacket and held his arms out to Winston. A smile lit up his face, and Winston moved to embrace the Doctor. Just before he could though, the Doctor held up his hand.

“Ah huh! Keep your hands off my TARDIS key!”

“If I must, Doctor.” Winston chuckled.

They embraced. Winston refrained from swiping the key from the Doctor’s pocket, though he was sorely tempted. When they parted, Winston stuck the cigar in his mouth so that he could take the Doctor’s hand in both of his.

“It was good to see you again, Doctor. You’re more than welcome to drop by at any time. Especially when all that space travel gets to be too much for you.” He winked, though the sincerity was clear in his voice.

“That I might do Winston Churchill, if you ever stop smoking so much. You know it really is a terrible habit.” The Doctor chided without malice. Winston just smiled and waved him away, having disregarded the advice several times before. Nodding, the Doctor turned and strode to the TARDIS, unlocked it and stepped inside. As he turned to close the door, the Doctor shouted to Winston, “Until next time!”


End file.
